


Among Sand and Stars

by Lyracst (AsYouWill)



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Feels of All Varieties, Home is Where the Squad Is, Lots of Calibrations, Normandy-SR2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:02:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsYouWill/pseuds/Lyracst
Summary: Solara Shepard is a certified Alliance badass, recently resurrected and recruited by Cerberus to save the human race.  A tribute to my favorite Commander, her favorite drell, and our favorite adventures, some told and some untold.  The overall intent of this work is to explore and expand on details of the relationships between those aboard the Normandy during their efforts against the Collectors.  As of now, I will be focusing mostly on ME2 but may get further into the trilogy in the future.





	1. Sunset-Colored Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solara is working through a long list of potential recruits for her team, but one in particular catches her eye.

Solara Shepard scrolled through her messages, the sharp, white light of the datapad causing her eyes to ache in contrast to the darkness of her cabin.  The low thrum of the Normandy was driving her to the verge of unconsciousness - it was the only sound she could remember that helped her fall asleep.  She took a moment to press her fingers against her eyelids, blink hard a few times, and waited for her vision to clear so that the liquid lines on the screen once again formed solid text.  One message in particular caught her eye.   
  
_ IMPORTANT - Shepard, S. - Addtl. Dossiers for Review _ .  

She had been expecting it, though not at two in the morning.  Apparently the Illusive Man was as fickle of a sleeper as she was.  Shepard opened the message and unveiled three names, two of which she did not know, and one that delighted her.     
  
“Tali’Zorah nar Rayya,” she grinned.  Shepard was a little surprised the Illusive Man had given in and recommended another familiar face for her already sizeable crew.  “EDI, add these coordinates to our flight plan, please.”   
  
“Destination added, Shepard,” chimed back the familiar, synthesized voice.     
  
With both Garrus and Tali around... _ It’ll be just like old times. _  Shepard stifled a yawn while her drowsy eyes flitted over the names on the other two dossiers.  She opened the first.  

_ Samara.  Asari.  Justicar. _

“A justicar?”     
  
“A justicar is an elite asari unit that follows a rigorous code to enforce justice and correct wrongdoings within asari space.  There are very few asari justicars in existence today due to the high mortality rate during training.  Typically, justicars operate alone.”

“Thanks, EDI,” Shepard lifted her brows, scrolling through Samara’s dossier with interest. There was even an informative vid of the justicar leaping down onto her prey from above and snapping an unwitting man's neck with her legs.  “She seems like a badass.”  

She wondered if the justicar would be interested in teaming up with her.  Given her history and the nature of her work, it seemed unlikely.  Plus, EDI mentioned a “justicar code.”  Maybe it was different for asari, but from what Shepard had seen in the Alliance, very few people did well trying to reconcile two sets of conflicting orders.   _ Guess the Illusive Man knows something I don’t.   _ She closed out of Samara’s file and opened the second dossier.     
  
_ Thane Krios.  Drell.  Assassin.   _

Shepard was not familiar with the drell species, though she remembered a few details from alien culture coursework she had taken during her early days in the Alliance.  She scanned through the succinct text and scowled slightly.     
  
“Not a whole lot to go on,” she murmured, sitting back into her couch and propping her feet up on her small coffee table.     
  
His history was eerily void of detail, and the dossier read more like the description one would find on the back of a nutrient paste tube.  She saw all the necessary ingredients.   _ Started at a very early age.  Endured an exhaustive hanar training program.  Began contract killings at age twelve.   _ After that, there was more of the same for many years.  The only area of interest was a recent ten-year gap.   _ Maybe he quit?   _ Shepard mused over whether it was possible for an assassin to walk out of his career.  And if he did leave, why was his dossier sitting in her lap now?  She opened the single attachment she had been sent with his dossier: a plain photo of the assassin, just his shoulders and above, against a black background.     
  
_ Thane Krios _ .  His face did not look cruel, but neither did it look kind.  His skin was smooth, his face expressionless, lacking the fine lines and creases that hinted at human emotions.  He looked more akin to a mask than to a person, and Shepard wondered whether that was common amongst drell or instead a product of his years of training and work.  Dark green markings against lighter green skin, broad shoulders, a splash of deep red around his throat, a fitted, leather-like black jacket.  There was little else she could discern from the photo.  But there was something about his eyes.  Shepard increased the size of the photo to hone in on the drell’s face, a slow, creeping warmth expanding from her cheeks to the back of her neck.   _ What the hell?   _ His eyes were deep obsidian, so dark that one would expect them to be void of emotion, but that was not the case.  There was something about his eyes, something knowing and intimate, something that made her pulse elevate just slightly.  It was odd to think it, but her physical reaction was evidence enough - she felt some kind of attraction to him.     
  
Shepard laughed and closed out of his dossier, shaking her head.   _ You’re being ridiculous.   _ She tossed her datapad aside and pressed her palms into her eyes.   _ No, you’re being sleep-deprived, and you don’t need to be thinking about brooding, dark eyes - you need to be sleeping _ .  The feeling vanished as quickly as it had arisen, a silly, fleeting fantasy.  In truth, Shepard did not think she needed any more additions to her crew, Tali excluded.  She would never turn down the quarian’s help, and she looked forward to seeing her dear friend again.  It was the new faces she was worried about.  She already had her hands full keeping Jack from decimating all of the Cerberus staff.  And she had recurring nightmares of Zaeed commandeering the Normandy and dragging them all away from their mission to fulfill some vengeance fantasy that she did not yet know the details of.  Still, the Illusive Man had brought her good people so far.  Could it hurt to investigate?   
  
“EDI, mark our destination for Illium, please.  I’m calling it a night.”   
  
“Destination updated.  Course set to Illium.  Logging you out, Shepard.”   
  
Shepard shook off her hoodie and untied her black hair, letting it fall about her shoulders and down her back with a sigh of relief.  She crashed into her bed, legs sprawled out, her hands folded over her stomach as she lay on her back, the dark scenery of her open canopy sprawling above her.  For a few minutes, before she finally began to drift off, she watched the sky streak by as they moved through open space towards Illium.

 

*    *    *    *    * 

 

The golden-rose light of the sunset burst through the heavy clouds, equal parts moisture and thick smog, and reflected on the thousands of glittering window panes lining the massive walls of the city’s numerous skyscrapers.  Shepard, however, stood in darkness.  The looming goliath of Dantius Towers cast its seemingly endless shadow over her and her squad.  She craned her neck, squinting against the setting sun’s reflected light, and could just make out where the tower, which was still under construction, ended.  

“Nobody needs a tower like this,” Shepard muttered.”It’s massive.”

“Eh, I’ve seen bigger,” Kasumi quipped with a shrug of her narrow shoulders.  Her edges shimmered as she slipped into her cloaked state.  Her comment earned a barking laugh from Zaeed, who stood well back, eyeing the perimeter, rifle at the ready.  Shepard dismissed a grin of her own, checked her shotgun, and lowered her visor.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

Aria T’Loak had been uncharacteristically kind to give them this lead.  The sharp-tongued asari monarch had actually smiled when Shepard asked about Thane.  After reasserting that she was not one to be fucked with, she had gladly opened up with some invaluable information.

“I’ve heard a rumor... _ just _ a rumor, mind you, that Nassana Dantius is quivering in her pretty little designer heels.  I didn’t think Nassana still believed that she could die, yet the way I hear it, she’s tripled her security and gone into hiding.  Talk to Seryna down in cargo.”

Perhaps Aria’s unusual helpfulness had something to do with Liari T’Soni and her new position.  Shepard’s old friend had moved up in the underworld.  Her reunion with Liara had been odd.  After all, she had never expected to hear her friend threatening to rip someone apart telepathically.  But it would not be doing Liara credit to judge her.  The two years since Shepard’s death had been hard on the asari, hard on everyone, and Liara had done what she needed to do to survive.  Like everyone else aboard the Normandy, Liara had lost her home after the Collectors attacked and Shepard was spaced.   


She snapped out of her reverie as they made their way into the courtyard in front of the tower, suddenly alerted by the approaching, robotic barks of a pack of FENRIS mechs.  The courtyard could have been nice, but it was currently littered with the bodies of a salarian construction crew who had been working on the tower.     
  
“Three o’clock,” Zaeed roared, the crack of his rifle following soon after.  Shepard slipped into cover, her biotics flaring a bright blue above her armor.     
  
Kasumi snapped into view behind one of the mechs, driving her fist into the exposed wires behind its head and ripping out its life.  She leapt backwards as another mech bounded towards her.  The mech’s head burst, courtesy of another of Zaeed’s bullets.  Two more mechs, along with a lone Eclipse mercenary, were closing in.  Shepard dashed forward with a shout, her biotics giving her momentum, and crashed into all three foes with a brilliant, blue flash.  The mechs spun away, stunned, and the merc fell back on his ass.  Shepard loomed over him with a grin.  She raised her shotgun and fired while Zaeed and Kasumi made short work of the mechs.     
  
“Who the fuck sets their dogs on hired staff just trying to do their goddamn jobs?”  Zaeed growled, turning one of the salarians over with his boot.     
  
“Someone who loves her own ass more than anything,” Kasumi looked towards the top of the tower thoughtfully.  “We’re not planning on stopping your assassin from killing Nassana, are we, Shep?”

“Not in the itinerary,” Shepard assured, striding towards the tower.  “We’re just here to make sure Thane gets out alive.”

The fight to the top of the tower was long and bloody but not without its victories.  Shepard and her squad managed to find a few small groups of survivors trapped within.  The poor salarians were deeply shaken by what they had been through, but for the most part, they were unharmed.   _ They’ll survive. _  That was what mattered.  A couple of them made mention of a stranger, a shadow they had seen flitting through the building.  One group attested that the unknown good samaritan had locked them inside a room to keep them from being found by Nassana’s mercenaries.     
  
“An assassin with a heart of gold?”  Kasumi raised her brow in amusement.  “Let’s meet him.”

“Sound like your type, Kasumi?”  Shepard grinned.  “Tall, dark, and heroic?”

“Isn’t it everyone’s?”

Shepard chuckled and Zaeed grunted in annoyance.     
  
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Zaeed,” Shepard laughed.  “You know, you could almost fit into that category if you weren’t such a giant asshole all the time.”

“Fuck off, you’re making me blush.”  

At last, they made it to what was currently the top of the tower.  Still under construction, the building was connected to the primary Dantius tower via a narrow, poorly-secured bridge.  Shepard could not help but feel a twinge of pity for the crew that had been working here.  With no guard rails, very little space to move, and high winds buffeting the bridge, the workspace was almost certainly a death trap.  She herself was not excited to be crossing it, but they were so close to the very top, to Nassana, and to their mysterious assassin.  A short radio conversation with Nassana had confirmed to Shepard how terrified the asari mogul truly was.  Her voice had been tremulous with it, the frantic notes of someone who knew they were about to die.   
  
The bridge sprang to life, suddenly crawling with mercs and snipers moving into position at the far side.  Shepard and her squad hurried to cover as a rocket launcher missile sailed past.     
  
“Careful, they’re not fucking around!”  

Shepard signaled Kasumi forward and followed quickly after, moving from one crate to another.  Zaeed stayed back with his sniper rifle, joyously picking off the mercenaries stupid enough to run towards them out of cover.  Shepard stepped from cover long enough to send out a long, biotic tendril, knocking an approaching mercenary into the air.  The wind did the rest of the work for her, and the man’s scream was ripped from his throat as he sailed away from the bridge.  A moment later, two mercenaries dropped to their knees clutching their hemorrhaging throats as Kasumi appeared behind them, blades dripping.  Zaeed hooted in admiration of the bloodshed, his rifle shattering the skull of yet another enemy.  

An asari commando marched down the middle of the bridge, her biotic shield searing any projectiles aimed at her.  The asari cried out and swept a wide, biotic arm, shoving Kasumi backwards.  The thief’s hands shot out, catching the edge of a crate to anchor herself as the high winds threatened to remove her from the bridge.  Zaeed darted forward to help Kasumi as Shepard stepped forward, her own biotics flaring as the air began to crackle around her.  She launched herself forward with a battlecry of her own, her lowered shoulder slamming through the commando’s shield and into her torso with a sickening crunch.  The asari scrambled to regain her footing, clutching at her chest, when Shepard grabbed her by the throat with an armored hand.  There was a split second when the asari begged Shepard for mercy with her terrified eyes, but the look quickly faded into a lifeless stare as Shepard’s omniblade finished the work.  She shoved the corpse away from her, breathing hard.     
  
The air was suddenly silent, minus the rush of the wind.  She scanned the battlefield, pleased to see that no enemies remained, and turned to her squadmates to assess the damage.  Kasumi looked a little shaken, but was otherwise unharmed, one thin arm draped over Zaeed’s shoulder.  Zaeed gave Shepard a terse nod of approval at her handiwork, and Shepard searched for the right words to lighten the mood - none came to her.  Her tensed shoulders finally relaxed a bit, and she gave her squad a faint, grateful smile.  

“Let’s finish up and get the hell out of here.”

They made their way across the bridge, stepping carefully past the bodies of their enemies, keeping low to combat the high winds.  At last, they opened the doors to Nassana’s penthouse, poised for another fight should the encounter turn ugly.  Nassana stood within, her last few mercenaries standing beside her as she barked orders.  As Shepard and her squad entered the room, Nassana’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Shepard?  You...you  _ died _ .”

Shepard flexed her arms, her hands, shifted her weight from leg to leg, and grinned.  

“I got better.”

Nassana stumbled backwards, eyes widening with alarm, and urged her mercenaries to raise their weapons.  Shepard waved an unarmed hand in annoyance. 

“Don’t bother.  We’re not here to kill you.”

Nassana gave a derisive laugh.

“ _ Please _ , you killed my entire crew!”   
  
“No,  _ you  _ killed your entire crew.  Well, most of it.  Do you remember the names of any of the salarians who worked here, on this tower, for  _ you _ ?”  Shepard crossed her arms over her chest, eyes piercing through the mercs who stood uncertainly before her.  “You should be thanking us.  We just took out your garbage.”

A sudden chill crossed her skin, a minute reaction to a minute stimulus in her environment.  She suddenly felt watched, and a second chill swept over her.  Shepard took a steady breath and removed her helmet.  Her ponytail, which had been coiled behind her head within her armor, spilled free down her back.  The cool, conditioned air of the penthouse felt good against her sweaty skin.  She tilted her head from side to side, joints popping.  Nassana looked beyond baffled, one hand still slightly outstretched...her fingers were shaking.  

“W-who was it?  Who sent you to kill me?”

“You’re not listening to me, Nassana.  I’m not the one about to kill you.”  The asari gave a soft wail of alarm at Shepard’s words.  “Actually, I’m  _ looking _ for your assassin so I can hire him.  I hear he does excellent work.  But I guess you haven’t seen him.”  

A faint clanking echoed in the pipes nested in the ceiling above their heads, and Nassana started.     
  
“What was that?!  Don’t just stand there!  Check the entrances!”  

The asari shoved one of her men towards the penthouse door.  Shepard turned her eyes upward, teeth working thoughtfully at the inside of her lip as she mentally counted down the last moments of Nassana’s life.  Outside, the clouds in the sky momentarily parted, and the sunset blazed inside the penthouse, pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the room in long, golden tendrils.  A shadow fell from above and landed silently behind Nassana and her mercenaries.  

He moved almost too quickly to track, his hands closing on the head of the first mercenary and silently snapping his neck.  The dropping body alerted the second merc, but he was too slow - the assassin struck the man’s throat with precision, and another body slumped to the floor.  A burst of bullets took down the remaining three mercs, too blinded by the sun to fire their weapons, before the second merc’s body settled, and the shadow overtook Nassana, gripping her close.  The sun was obscured once more by clouds, and as her eyes adjusted, Shepard watched Thane Krios shove his pistol against Nassana’s stomach and kill her with a single, point-blank shot.  His arms closed around her falling body, and he placed her on her fancy table, crossing her hands gently over her still chest.  

The assassin turned towards them, a flash of obsidian eyes, before he lowered his head and folded his hands before him in what appeared to be prayer.  Shepard felt Zaeed and Kasumi reach for their weapons, and she held up a hand to restrain them, her curiosity spiking as the drell remained motionless before them.

“We were looking for you.”

No answer.  Shepard paced a few steps, eyes trained on the assassin.  She dared a glance at Kasumi who shrugged helplessly in response.  After several long moments of silence, Thane’s eyes fluttered open, and he lifted his head, lowered his hands.  For a second, he looked bewildered as if returning from a trance.

“My apologies.  I...needed to ask forgiveness.”

Shepard quirked a brow at the drell in confusion.

“You think Nassana Dantius was worth praying for?”   
  
“No, no - not for her.  I was praying for myself.”  The assassin regarded the commander for a long moment, his chilling eyes unblinking and wide.  He broke his gaze to look thoughtfully down at his hands.  “Nassana deserved the end that befell her, but nonetheless, a life is a life, and I took hers.”  He took a step towards Shepard, and Zaeed and Kasumi reflexively raised their weapons.  Thane eyed them both briefly but paid their weapons no mind.  He turned his gaze back to Shepard.  “Commander Solara Shepard.  I have heard a great deal about you.  You are...a legend among your species.”

“I try to be humble,” she quipped.

“You deflect the truth with humor.  Why?  Does it make you uncomfortable, knowing how much you mean to so many people?”

She ignored the questions and defiantly crossed her arms back over her chest.  

“I’ve heard of you, too.  Well, Cerberus has.  Judging by your dossier, you’ve led an interesting life so far.  I came to make sure that that pattern doesn’t end anytime soon.”

“So forward,” he replied, the faintest touch of a smile on his full lips.  He turned away towards the windows and the impressive view of Illium, clasping his hands behind his back.  “I saw you, on the bridge.   _ Flash of blue, a battlecry, fist raised to strike.  She rushes in to protect her squadmate, fearless in spite of the danger she has put herself in.  The sheer fury in her attack stuns her prey into submission.  She reaches out and takes the life.  She sends the asari’s soul to the sea. _ ”

Shepard ran her tongue over her lips, another chill threatening to spread from the back of her neck.  She suddenly felt bare, exposed and wished she had not removed her helmet.  She wondered how close had to been the entire time, from the fight in the courtyard to the mayhem on the bridge.  She swiped a lingering drop of sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm, her heart rate elevating just slightly as the drell turned back towards her.  

“I was making my way to Nassana when I first heard you.  You and your squadmates provided an excellent distraction for the mercenaries.  Even so, you moved quickly, pushing me to move even faster towards my target,” he smiled, bright white teeth flashing in the darkening room.  

“I wasn’t aware that we were racing.  You  _ used _ us to make your kill,” she frowned slightly, not entirely pleased with being a pawn in someone else’s plan.

“Yes,” Thane replied bluntly, eyes glittering in the waning light.  “I would have killed Nassana either way.  You helped me get to her more quickly, lessening the bloodshed of the innocent people trapped here.  Whether you intended to or not, I thank you for your help.  As do the salarians who walked away with their lives tonight.”  His brow furrowed, his face darkened, and he turned to regard the composed body of the asari.  “I should have been quicker.  My inefficiency resulted in too many unnecessary deaths.  That is the main reason for my prayer.  I share their blood on my hands just as Nassana did.”

“Fuck that, that asari bitch gave the order to kill those poor bastards,” Zaeed barked.     
  
“They were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Shepard conceded.  “You couldn’t have stopped it all.  And you put Nassana down.”

Thane glanced between the two of them, an expression of puzzlement on his face.

“You mistake me.  While I thank you for your empathy, I do not feel responsible for the deaths of the crew members.  My prayer is not one of grief or remorse - it is more of a promise.  A promise to try harder, do more good.  Tell me more of your mission, why you sought me out.  I wasn’t aware that Cerberus was in the business of working with ‘aliens.’”

“They’re not, except out of desperation,” Shepard shrugged.  “But it doesn’t matter what Cerberus wants.  They’re funding  _ my  _ mission, which is to stop the Collector attacks on human, and  _ any _ , colonies.  They’re kidnapping people, doing who knows what with them.”  

“They also killed you, blew up your ship, and threatened your crew,” chimed Kasumi.  

Shepard turned and pointed at the thief, “Yes.  That too.”    
  
“Also, it’s a suicide mission,” Zaeed contributed, casually fingering his beloved rifle in a semi-disturbing fashion.  “Remarkably low odds of survival and all that.”   
  
Shepard shot him a poorly-masked glare, which Zaeed countered with the best wink his stiff face could manage.

“The Collectors?  I’ve heard of them,” Thane reflected on her words, but it did not take him long to make a decision.  “I will help you.”  

“Really?”  Shepard blinked.  “Just like that?”

“Yes,” Thane turned to the now-dark windows one last time.  “I am dying.  The universe is filled with darkness begging for removal, and I wish to make it a little a brighter before I die.”

Shepard reeled at the revelation, but as much as she wished to ask him questions, it did not seem like the place nor the time to do so.  Instead, she gave a sharp nod of her head and stepped forward to the assassin’s side.  He turned to her, and for the first time, she saw his face up close.  There was more detail to it than she had known, speckles of dark green, ridges accenting the tops and sides of his head.  The red frills under his jaw looked almost soft.  He was regarding her with a similar curiosity, she noticed, and the realization made her slightly nervous.  She cleared her throat gently and outstretched her hand, which he gripped in his own.  

“Welcome to the crew, Thane,” she turned to her waiting squadmates and grinned.  “Let’s get back to the Normandy.  We have some introductions to make.”


	2. Her Hull, Her Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solara introduces Thane to the crew, then takes some time to unwind after the tense events on Illium in the best way she knows how.

The Normandy was unusually abuzz when Shepard finally stepped back on board. Returning to her beloved ship after a mission always felt good, and she could not help but grin as she was greeted with a burning question from Joker and the cause of all the commotion.

“No, but seriously, it’s an important question!”

“I do not understand the relevance of this line of questioning, Jeff.”

“Relevance isn’t important, it’s just a question that you have to answer. Like, gun-to-your-head-make-a-decision.”

“This scenario would never happens, as I do not have a ‘head.’”

Joker threw himself back in his chair and groaned in frustration, but he perked up as he spotted Shepard, still armored up.

“Hey, Commander, help me settle something, will you? I have this question that I need to know the answer to.”

“Okay, Joker, let’s hear it,” Shepard walked into the cockpit, helmet tucked under one arm.

“The Council...who would you do?”

Shepard barked a laugh of surprise, then blinked.

“Wait, what?”

“Who,” Joker intoned, raising his brows suggestively, “would. You. Do?”

Kasumi rolled her eyes and walked off, “I’m going to go shower, now.” Zaeed followed close behind, heading for the elevator.

Joker waved his hand and snorted dismissively. Shepard grinned and shook her head, stepping slightly to the side to reveal Thane, who had stepped forward to fill the space that Kasumi and Zaeed left.

“Oh! Hey there,” Joker waved.

“Joker, this is Thane Krios. Thane, this is Jeff Moreau, fondly known as Joker, our faithful pilot. He’s been with us since the beginning, much to all of our annoyance.”

“That’s cold, Commander. I’ll remember that next time you need an emergency evac from some shitty space station that’s about to explode. EDI, that was a joke, don’t lock me out of the navigation interface again.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Krios,” EDI ignored Joker’s remark in what seemed suspiciously close to annoyance. _Can EDI be annoyed?_

Thane’s brow ridge raised in surprise. “An AI?”

“Oh, that’s just EDI, Cerberus’ secret robot spy who is definitely not plotting to kill us all in our sleep.”

“Nah, just you, Joker,” Shepard reassuringly clapped a gentle hand on Joker’s shoulder. “Alright, let’s head to the meeting room and get you acquainted with the slightly less obnoxious portion of our crew. EDI, can you let Jacob and Miranda know we’re on our way?”

“Yes, Shepard - they will be assembled upon your arrival.”

Shepard walked with Thane at her side and cast a sidelong glance at their new crew member. He had been very quiet so far, but she suspected that that was not abnormal. She wondered if he was feeling uncertain about being in the midst of so many strangers, especially so many humans. From his dossier, she seemed to recall that he had done a bit of work at the Citadel, though, so it was likely he had far more experience with her species than she did with his. To Shepard, constantly being around people had become the norm, but Thane seemed to have spent a lot of his career working alone. I’ll have to figure out a way to help him feel comfortable here.

The introduction to Cerberus staff went as well as anyone could have hoped given that Miranda was notoriously suspicious of everyone and Jacob followed Miranda’s lead like a lost puppy, whether he was aware of that or not. As ever, Thane seemed unbothered by his lukewarm reception - very little seemed to affect him at all. Shepard kindly granted him the short version of the Normandy tour, as he would have plenty of time to get to know everyone.

“Now that you’ve seen the ship, do you have any preferences as to where you want to stay?”

“I prefer somewhere dry, if possible.”

“The quarters in Life Support tend to be slightly more arid than the rest of the ship,” EDI offered helpfully.

  
Thane nodded his assent, and Shepard escorted him to the small space in the crew quarters.

“Home, sweet home,” Shepard smiled. “If you need anything, my cabin is on the top floor. Otherwise, EDI can help point you towards anything you might need. You’re welcome to use the kitchen whenever, but there are three meals prepared a day for all crew members. If you have any dietary restrictions, you can let mess sergeant Gardner know. If you need anything to make this space more comfortable, let Kelly Chambers know - she’s upstairs in the command area. Feel free to get settled and, if you want, check out the rest of the crew quarters. Everyone’s generally pretty friendly, but always feel free to come to me if you have any problems with anyone.”

“Thank you, Shepard, you’ve been more than kind,” Thane inclined his head in a slight bow.

He picked up his few belongings, which they had retrieved from Illium before departing, and entered his new quarters. Shepard left him to settle in and headed for her cabin, excited to be getting out of her armor at last. Their adventure on Illium should have left her ready to take it easy, but in truth she felt a little restless. Fortunately, she knew just the thing to help her unwind. After quickly scanning her messages for anything of grave importance, she stripped off her armor and donned sweatpants and an N7 tank top in its place. Instead of a ponytail, she opted for a tight bun. Cracking her knuckles, Shepard headed to the elevator with enthusiasm and punched the button for the bottom floor.

“Yes! Battlemaster!”

Grunt was happy to see her, which he illustrated with a fist to her upper arm.

“Fight’s not started yet, buddy,” Shepard teased.

“If you thought that was a fight-punch and not a greetings-punch, this is going to be sad,” Grunt gave a low, menacing laugh and punched one palm with his other fist in anticipation.

“Oh, as sad as last time? When I kicked your ass?” Shepard shot the krogan a broad grin and crossed her arms over her chest as Grunt pushed the few crates scattering their makeshift battle arena to the sides of the room.

“Not gonna happen this time,” Grunt promised, marching to the center of the now-cleared room. “Let’s do this.”

Shepard cracked her knuckles once more for good measure and strode towards her squadmate. Unable to hold off any longer, the krogan lowered his head and charged, roaring as he plodded forward in a predictable first move. Shepard sidestepped him easily and grabbed his shoulder, her biotics kicking in with a flash of indigo. Grunt’s own momentum, with a helpful push from Shepard, sent the krogan crashing into a wall with a loud curse. Grunt spun around as quickly as he was able, which was not quickly enough. Shepard tucked her shoulder behind a heavy crate and sent it sliding across the floor towards the krogan. The crate hit the wall to Grunt’s left. Grunt roared with laughter and began to advance again.

“You’d think a target as large as me would be impossible to miss.”

He swung a heavy fist, but his reach was limited, making him easier to dodge. And Shepard needed to dodge. A well-placed punch from the krogan was extremely painful, and few humans could take more than a few of them before losing consciousness. A few well-placed punches from him, and the fight would be over. Shepard darted in landed a punch of her own to Grunt’s abdomen. He recovered quickly, but Shepard used what time she had to charge up her biotics and shoved another crate forward. This time, the crate slid past Grunt on his right, much to his glee.

“Guess your eyesight’s as soft as the rest of you.”

“Yeah, keep talkin’,” Shepard smiled to hide her shortness of breath and danced with him, circling him as he circled her, waiting for the right moment.

The krogan tried another charge, barreling forward with all his impressive strength. Shepard cried out, leaping forward with a burst of biotics and slamming into her squadmate. Grunt flew backward against the wall again, hitting the exact same spot as before. Panting, the krogan looked up, clearly searching for his next shit-talk, only to see one more crate sliding towards him, and this one was not going to miss. The crate slammed into place, pinning him against the wall. With a crate to his left and a crate to his right, Grunt couldn’t move enough to get the leverage needed to deal with the crate pressing against his face. After struggling intensely for a good minute or two, the krogan gave his signature slow chuckle, his muscles slackening in defeat.

“Leave it to a squishy human to fight dirty.”

“I think you mean, ‘Leave it to a very smart, funny, and reasonably good-looking human to kick your ass.’ Anyway, my hull, my rules. I’m going to go get a drink - shall I get the lights on my way out?”

Shepard heard a squeal from behind her, and turned away from her handiwork to find Kelly Chambers standing in the doorway, applauding rapidly, Thane standing beside her. Shepard froze in surprise to see the newest member of the Normandy - she had not expected to see him again so soon.

“The trash-talking is my favorite part,” Kelly disclosed, bouncing joyfully on her heels. “They have the best banter. Do you like banter, Thane?”

“I’m not certain,” Thane replied honestly. He looked from Grunt, still squirming uncomfortably from behind the crates, to Shepard, his dark eyes glinting with hidden thoughts that she could not decipher. He lifted a scaled hand, which suddenly shimmered blue around the edges, and swept the crate pinned against Grunt’s chest away from the wall. Grunt shook his limbs in relief and began to push the other crates back into their original positions, muttering darkly.

Shepard stifled a smile and nodded her greetings to the two onlookers.

“We weren’t expecting an audience - sorry for the ruckus. The cargo bay isn’t usually this animated.”

“Not at all! Thane asked to see the lower levels of the Normandy, so we just finished up a little tour of Engineering. Besides, it’s best to see the crew members in their raw, primal states.”

“Raw and primal.” Shepard raised her brow. “Uh-huh. Kelly isn’t scaring you off with her raw and primal state, is she, Thane?”

“Not at all. Miss Chambers has been nothing but cordial.”

“I’m sure she has,” Shepard flashed Kelly a wink, but the spacy administrator seemed lost. She opted not to pursue the joke and turned instead to Thane. “We don’t usually fight each other, since there’s no shortage of bad guys to shoot at. Our resident krogan is just extra krogan-y and needs a good, controlled way to unwind.” So do I, apparently.

“Practice is never detrimental,” Thane agreed, turning to Grunt who stood well back, arms crossed over his puffed out chest, pouting in his very krogan way. “Perhaps we could spar together sometime. I do not often get the chance to test myself against krogan.”

“I don’t even know what you are, but I’d be happy to pummel you,” Grunt nodded.

“Believe it or not, that was actually one of his nicer answers,” Shepard chuckled and clapped Thane’s shoulder reassuringly before she could stop herself. The drell looked surprised, but he did not pull away from her. Or snap my wrist, which he probably thought about doing. Her fingers trailed away from him, and she stood in awkward silence for a moment or two. “Sorry. I sometimes forget about...personal space. I, uh, I hope that wasn’t offensive or--I...”

“Not at all,” Thane dismissed her apology, which had been rapidly deteriorating into nonsense anyway. “Admittedly, drell are traditionally less inclined to touch each other than humans seem to be. But it does not bother me, and I do not take offense.”

Shepard could not help but smile softly in gratitude, and to her surprise, Thane mirrored her smile with one of his own. Faint as the smile was, the way his stoic face softened made her breath hitch slightly, and she remembered the feeling she had in her cabin the night she had first reviewed his file. Shepard had never felt such an immediate attraction to any human male let alone a non-human one, and her own reaction baffled her. She could feel her skin growing warmer, her face reddening slightly, but if Thane noticed her physical response, he thankfully said nothing of it. She was brought of her reverie by a pointed, small cough from Kelly whose presence she had completely forgotten. The yeoman had a sly smile on her face which Shepard desperately wished she would remove.

“Thank you both for your kind welcome,” Thane cut in, clasping his hands behind his back. He turned his gaze to Shepard. “For now, I would like to return to my room to meditate, but I look forward to working with you, Commander.”

Thane departed for the elevator, leaving Shepard with a still-smiling yeoman.

“Commander…”

“No, Kelly. Whatever you are about to say, my answer is--”

“I’ve never seen you look so weird and pink, Shepard,” Grunt remarked from the back of the cargo bay, where he was meticulously cleaning his favorite shotgun. “Do humans always change colors when they’re aroused?”

“WHAT--”

Kelly burst out into laughter, hooting her amusement at maximum volume. Shepard clenched her jaw and shifted from foot to foot, waiting for her to finish, or at least run out of breath.

“Miss Chambers, when you’re finished with your fit--”

“I...I’m sorry,” Kelly gasped. She cleared her throat and genuinely attempted to compose herself. “It was just your face when Grunt...when he...so sorry. I have to say, though, it is good to see you blush, Commander. It’s proof that you’re you, human.”

“Were there doubts about that?” Shepard quirked a genuinely curious eyebrow.

“Well, you know, after your reconstruction, some people had concerns and there were rumors.”

“Rumors?”

“Yeah, that you were a cyborg or some creepy clone or something. I don’t know. But they were just rumors! You are obviously very real, as are your feelings.”

Grunt guffawed, and Shepard growled with annoyance, turning for the door.

“This is stupid.”

“It isn’t!” Kelly followed her out, placing gentle fingers on Shepard’s arm. “Truly, Commander, it’s completely normal for people to develop feelings for each other, especially when they work and live so close together. You two just met, but who knows? Anything could happen with enough time!”

“I don’t date crew members.”

“That’s not a Cerberus-enforced regulation. And you don’t have to ‘date’”.

Shepard flushed a brighter red than before and gave Kelly the dirtiest glare she could muster.

“Well, it’s my regulation,” she stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the top floor, blocking Kelly from joining her. “Take the stairs, yeoman.”

Kelly shrugged and grinned as the doors slid shut, “Your hull, your rules, Commander.”

* * * * *

It was ridiculous to even entertain the idea. Solara Shepard had had her share of lovers, flings, fleeting infatuations. Kelly was right; it was normal. But if ever there was a mission too risky to compromise with emotional attachments, it was this one, hers. Solara lay atop her bed, datapad balanced against her thighs, her head and shoulders propped up with pillows. She browsed through her messages quickly, sorting the mundane from those with real substance. Sometimes she was not sure why she bothered - for each message she erased or sorted, two more came in. As if on cue, her datapad dinged pleasantly, alerting her of a new message. She had planned to ignore it, but the name of the sender caught her eye. Thane Krios. Solara chewed her bottom lip for a moment, then opened it.

The message was formal and polite, which seemed to be the standard for her new drell squadmate. He thanked her for welcoming her into her crew, expressed his interest in the mission, summarized the belongings he had brought aboard with him - all very standard. But the last paragraph gave her pause.

As I mentioned while on Illium, I have heard a great deal about you and am pleased to be working by your side. I request no payment for this mission and look forward only to seeing it through to the end, regardless of the outcome. I understand the discomfort that some might feel interacting closely with a career assassin, and if my words are not enough, I hope my deeds over the course of this mission will make this clear: my arm is yours.

She read over his words a couple of times, puzzling over his absolute commitment to a team he hardly knew. He had heard of her before - as his message indicated, he had mentioned this on Illium as well, but he had yet to clarify. A lot of people knew her name, her rank, knew of her, but his words seemed to hint that he knew more. Solara was positive she had never met Thane before, but he was an assassin. No doubt he had a great deal of connections, access to information even she lacked.

A quiet knock on her door made her jump slightly, and she sat up straighter into a more composed posture.

“EDI?”

“Kasumi Goto,” the AI announced.

“Let her in.”

The doors slid open, and the petite master thief stepped inside soundlessly. Her eyes glinted beneath her hood, ever obscuring the entirety of her face. She paused near the fishtank, tapping a finger on the cool glass.

“I think you’re supposed to have fish in these, Shep. They’re good for reducing stress.”

“I don’t hate any fish enough to attempt to take care of them.”

Kasumi chuckled, “They make automated feeders these days, you know.”

“Well, now you know what to get me for my birthday,” Shepard set her datapad aside and smiled. “What’s up?”

“Not much, I mostly wanted to check in on you after that Illium fiasco.”

“Check in on me?” Shepard raised her brow. “If anyone should be checking in on anyone, it should be me checking on you,” she paused, studying the thief thoughtfully. “It did get a little hairy on that bridge. Are you alright?”

Kasumi glided forward and perched herself on the foot of Shepard’s bed, crossing her nimble legs before her. She sat as precariously as a cat, ready to depart at a second’s notice.

“I’m fine. It’s not the first time I’ve nearly been thrown airborne over an unsurvivable drop,” she grinned. “Besides, Zaeed made sure that I didn’t get too far. What’s really bothering me is Nassana. Even with the crowd I keep, it’s sort of rare to meet someone that heartless. Those poor salarians...”

Shepard lowered her head, and they sat in reflective silence for a moment. Both of them had seen firsthand how little the asari mogul had cared about her employees. So many people had died, ravaged by mechs, burned alive by electrical fires, or suffocated by smoke, if not outright gunned down by Nassana’s mercenaries.

“She won’t hurt anyone else,” Solara murmured, revisiting Thane’s abrupt assassination.

Kasumi was watching her curiously, and when Solara met her eye, Kasumi smiled slowly.

“So, what do you think of our mysterious, new squadmate?”

Shepard shifted uncomfortably under the thief’s expectant stare, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Fine, I’ll go first. I like him. I’m glad he’s here. No doubt he’s dangerous - he could probably kill any one of us before we could blink - but he doesn’t seem to be interested in doing that, thankfully.”

Solara nodded, considering Kasumi’s assessment.

“He seems awfully dedicated to the mission, considering how little he knows about it and about us.”

“True, but that’s his nature,” Kasumi countered. “Plus, if he truly is dying - and why would he lie about that? - it makes sense. One last good fight, and all that heroic crap.”

“What do you mean ‘that’s his nature’?” Solara frowned. “Do you know him?”

“I know of him. In my line of work, it pays to know a lot of shady people. He’s always kept his reputation clean and quiet, as any good assassin should. But I’ve heard a few stories, and if one thing rings true from all that I’ve heard, it’s that he’s committed.”

Kasumi stood up, stretching her arms above her head.

“Leaving so soon?”

“It’s how I roll,” Kasumi flashed Shepard a smile and winked. “Drop my cryptic yet endless wisdom on you, then flee. In truth, I’m starving, so I’m headed to the mess hall.”

“Will you be joining us? We’re going back to Illium to track down the justicar in an hour or two.”

“I think I’ll pass, if it’s alright with you. I’ve had enough action for one day. Why don’t you take the turian with you? He’s itching to shoot some people.”

“How do you know?”  
“Oh, the frequency of his calibrations, let’s say.”

Solara’s eyes narrowed as she puzzled out the thief’s words, “I don’t…”

“It’s my job to know people and get in their business, Shep, just trust me on this. Well, it’s not my job, but I make it my job. If you have any insightful revelations or just want to talk, you know where to find me.”

The thief departed as quickly as she had come, leaving Shepard to ponder over her words. She moved from her bed to the floor to stretch out her muscles in anticipation of their next mission. Shepard turned her thoughts towards the asari justicar they would soon be meeting. With any luck, recruiting Samara would be less emotionally distracting than their previous mission.


	3. Clap Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tali realizes that she's been missing out on something and seeks fulfillment. Thane and Shepard share a meditation session. Shepard and crew visit Omega for a little shore leave.

“I want to get into a barfight.”

Shepard snorted into her drink and lowered it to the mess-hall table to prevent herself from spilling it further.  Apparently she lowered it too forcefully, as her drink splashed up and out of her cup anyway, much to the delight of Tali.    

“So many questions, the main one being ‘ _why_?’”

“You kick people's’ asses all the time, Shepard.  You take it for granted.  Sure, I’ve shot a bunch of people.  Chikktika’s shot a bunch of people.  But it’s not the _same_.  I want to _punch_ someone,” the quarian slammed her fist into the table for emphasis.  She shook her hand in surprise.  “Ow.”

“Fights hurt, you know.  Punching people...in the _face_...it hurts.  And not just the guy you’re punching!”  Shepard’s head was spinning, but just a little.  It had been a long time since she had had the chance to just sit and chat with Tali, one of her dearest friends.  It had been even longer since they had shared a drink.  So, instead of having just one drink together as they had planned, they had had four.

“You think I can’t do it!”  Tali pointed an accusatory finger, her voice shrill with drunken outrage.  “You think I can’t punch someone without hurting myself!  I’m going to go punch someone right now!  I’m going to punch…,” the quarian paused, deep in thought about whose face was most deserving.  “ _Jack_.”

Shepard’s eyes widened slightly.  Even tipsy, she knew that was a plan that would not end well.

“Yeah, I think you should pick someone else, Tali.  Jack’s not a good one for a starter punch.  She’s _advanced punch_.”

“Mmm...Miranda?”

“Nope.”

Tali cried out in frustration, drawing the attention of Garrus, who had been headed to the main battery for his evening calibrations.  

“Garrus!  What about him?”

Shepard laughed, “You can try.  In fact, I’m glad I’m here to see it.”

“What’s going on?”

“Tali wants to get in a barfight,” Shepard grinned.  “She’s trying to decide who to punch.”

Garrus clacked his mandibles lightly and glanced around with skepticism.  
  
“Well, I’m not sure this constitutes a _bar_ , so I don’t see how punching a crew member in the face is going to count as a barfight.”

“Keelah, he’s right!” Tali jumped up out of her seat and nearly toppled over but caught herself on Garrus’ arm.  “Shepard, please, we have to go to Omega!  I need this more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life!  If we scan one more planet for minerals, I will _die_ of boredom, and I can’t die until I’ve been in a barfight!”

“I like scanning for minerals,” Shepard mumbled defensively, but she knew she was in the minority there.  “I guess we could do some gear shopping, though, now that we’ve recruited everyone.”  

It was true that they had completed their last recruitment with the addition of Samara.  From what Shepard had seen so far, the asari justicar was indeed a badass, and she was glad to have her on the team.  With her, Tali, and Thane, the Normandy was now fully occupied, and it was apparent that many of her crew members could feel it.  As large as she was, every room in the Normandy was taken, and space was limited.  Some shore leave would do everyone good.  

“Alright, I’ll talk to EDI about setting us on course for Omega.  This _doesn’t_ mean I’m condoning the whole barfight idea, though.”

Tali trilled with excitement and Garrus nodded in approval.

“I could use a new scope.  I wonder if that little shop I used to go to is still open.”

“Garrus, is it safe for you to be waltzing around Omega?  Do you think any merc groups will recognize your face?”  
  
“Considering they blew half of it off, I think I’ll be alright.”

“Fair enough.”

Shepard updated EDI on their plans and decided to turn in early.  The drinks had hit her harder than she initially thought, and she was eager for some quiet darkness and the softness of her bed.  Once in her cabin, she stripped down to her underwear and stood in front of her bathroom mirror, sleepily pondering her scarred reflection.  Each mark on her skin was a memory, each burn and bullet hole a story.  After the Collector attack on the Normandy, so much of her was synthesized or rebuilt - it made her wonder what still constituted Solara Shepard and what was technically Cerberus property.  It was an ugly thought, and one she did not want to consider heavily, especially while drunk.  

She closed her eyes and washed her face, the warm water soothing the impending headache building up behind her eyes.  For a moment, she could feel strong hands massaging her shoulders, a firm embrace, the press of another body beside her own.   _Thane_.  Her eyes shot open, burning at the sudden splash of soap, and she grabbed a towel to wipe away the suds.  

“Goddammit,” she muttered, flustered at the direction her mind had so readily wandered.  It had been awhile since Shepard had spoken to the drell assassin, but she found he was frequently in her thoughts if not far from them.   _There’s something about him…_

“Are you alright, Shepard?”  EDI checked in, ever the caretaker.  

“Peachy,” Shepard grumbled, exiting the bathroom and flopping down upon her bed.  

“Shepard, I do not understand how your current mood resembles a fruit.”

“It’s just an expression, EDI.  It means ‘I’m great.’”

Even EDI did not seem to buy her answer, but the AI posed no further questions, to Shepard’s relief.  Omega would be a nice break in the routine, even for Shepard.  She looked forward to spending some time with her full crew on solid ground, and she definitely looked forward to shopping for new guns.  She _always_ enjoyed shopping for new guns.  She grinned drowsily, the images of shiny shotguns taking the place of less welcome thoughts.  

When she opened her eyes, the timed lights in her cabin had all gone out, leaving her in relative darkness.  The soft glow of the empty aquarium ensured that she was never left in total blackness, for which she was grateful.  She had not even realized she was drifting off, but she blearily noted the time and saw that it was much later.  Her lessened drunkenness confirmed the same, to her disappointment, but when she sat up her head spun a little, indicating that she still had some alcohol swimming around in her veins.

The time was far too early for any reasonable person to be awake, but it was far too late for Shepard to feel particularly sleepy.  She hated nights like these.  More often than not, she would spend hours pacing about her cabin, bored and on-edge, eager for the familiar clattering of breakfastware, the smell of coffee, and the muted chatter that signaled the start of the day on the Normandy.  She had never been one to sleep a full night through, but since she had come back from the dead, she found she rarely slept more than four or five hours a night.  Tonight, she felt especially restless, and to avoid having to rearrange her entire cabin out of boredom, she opted instead to take a stroll.  Her feet began to take her down to the crew’s quarters long before she consciously realized where she was headed.  A small knot of anxiety turned in her stomach, but it felt strangely good, exciting.   _He’s not going to be awake at three-something in the morning_.  Nevertheless, she scoured the crew deck, taking note of the few people who actually were awake.  Most of them were wrapping up night shifts, their reports mostly-written, their coffee mugs empty, their eyes growing emptier as their thoughts drifted towards sleep.  There was a young man, probably barely twenty, already asleep at one of the mess hall tables, his forehead pressed deeply into his datapad.  Shepard fondly recalled the business of her early Alliance days, the one time in her life when she had been truly grateful for her inability to sleep for an extended amount of time.  

“Good morning, Commander.”

Her heart jumped into her throat, the anxious knot in her stomach trilling as she recognized his voice.  She must have started, as she felt her arm brush against his, jolting the mug of hot water he was holding.  It was as if she had not touched him at all, she noticed, for not a drop spilled.  She raised a brow in curiosity.    
  
“Whoa...neat trick.  Also, sorry about that.” 

Thane smiled lightly and drew his mug of water towards his chest, perhaps afraid that Shepard would try to knock it out of his hand once more.    
  
“I wouldn’t necessarily call it a trick.  It’s...more of a reflex, something learned over time with a great deal of repetition.”  He tilted his head slightly, pondering.  “Perhaps it is a trick after all.”

Shepard chuckled and regarded the drell warmly.  She had hoped to see him around, and here he was.  She cleared her throat softly, suddenly aware of the length of time passing between when she had last spoken.  Thane did not seem to mind the silence.    
  
“You’re up early,” she commented. 

“As are you.” 

Shepard chuckled again and shook her head, “I never sleep.  Or, rarely, anyway.”

“I feel the same - moreso lately,” Thane agreed, cradling his mug.  “Perhaps...I was preparing for a morning meditation.  Meditating helps ease my mind and is sometimes just as rejuvenating as sleeping.  Would you care to join me?” 

“I’ve never meditated before,” Solara admitted.  “It’s surprisingly challenging, sitting still.” 

“It comes more naturally to some than others, but in truth, it will always take practice.  Meditation was a large part of my training as a child, but I did not take it seriously until well into my adult years.  I regret that.  I could have learned a great deal much more quickly had I started meditation at a younger age.  Join me, Shepard.  I think you will like it, or at least find it valuable.”

She noticed his use of her name - not her first, but not the customary title of ‘Commander’ that she was so accustomed to.  It would be nice to spend some time with him, and as little thought as she had given to meditation and similar practices, she figured it could do little harm. 

“Alright,” she consented.  “Lead the way.”

She followed the drell to his makeshift quarters in the life support module.  The room was cramped and small, but Thane pushed the single table to the corner to make space.  He unfurled a thin blanket on the floor for them to sit and waved his hand invitingly.  

“Please, take a seat if you wish,”  he placed his mug on a ledge and began to prepare his tea.  

A spiced aroma, warm but unfamiliar to Shepard, filled the small area, and her eyes drifted shut as she settled herself on the ground, legs crossed, shoulders loose.  There were soft clinks as Thane stirred the contents of his mug.  The scent reminded her of an apple orchard in full bloom, the coast along a cloudy ocean, of sunshine.  Flashes of color bloomed and faded behind her eyes, and she inhaled deeply.  Her eyes peeked open, impatient and unable to remain closed for long, and her gaze was met by Thane’s, now seated before her.  He wore his usual leather jacket, the smooth scales of his chest exposed.  His normally unreadable expression seemed vaguely tinged with sadness, but if he was troubled, he did not say why.  

“Forgive me if I seem scattered.  I typically meditate alone, but I am grateful for your company.”

“You may not be for long when you realize how difficult it is for me to just sit,” Shepard quipped, smiling.   

“Do what you can to clear your mind,” Thane advised, shifting his spine and allowing his body to settle. His low, rumbling voice was soothing and even.  “The challenge is to think of nothing without thinking about thinking of nothing.  That is the part that comes with practice.  For now, allow your mind to become a void.  Any thoughts that do come to you, acknowledge them but allow them to pass without grasping onto them.  Close your eyes.” 

“Sounds simple enough,” Shepard muttered with little confidence, her eyes falling shut once more.  The room felt oddly warm, a detail she had not noticed before.  The scent of the tea was less apparent now, and as her mind began to drift she stopped noticing it altogether.  A few faint voices chattered somewhere outside of the room, early risers or perhaps that young man with his face on his datapad finally waking up.  Solara focused on tuning these out, marking them as unimportant in her mind and moving on to other sounds, other thoughts.  The endless hum of the Normandy was the most challenging noise to ignore, but after awhile it almost helped in drowning out everything else.  As the minutes passed, she used the hum to ignore the slow stiffness creeping into her crossed legs.  Eventually, that sensation passed too and she did feel some semblance of calm.  Shepard noticed with discomfort that the last time she had felt this calm was in her last living moments in her previous life, her body adrift in space, detached from the Normandy, detached from everything.  She remembered her panicked flailing as her oxygen ran low, her eyes so wide with alarm that they burned.  She remembered her vision fading, the expanse of space before her darkening, then an overwhelming flash of orange light.  Then, calm.  Her arms had fallen to her sides, her fingers unclenched, her eyes closed as she surrendered.  That was her very last memory before the end of her life…

Her eyes opened suddenly, and the dim light of the room was surprisingly bright.  There was no steam rising from Thane’s mug, still perched on its ledge across the room.  She wondered how much time had passed and looked to Thane - his eyes were already opened and fixed on her face, his torso inclined slightly towards her with concern.  
  
“Shepard, are you alright?  Your heart rate is elevated.” 

Shepard took a deep breath and was surprised to find it shuddering and uneven.  There was a thin film of sweat on her face and along the back of her neck.  Her skin was flushed and cool.  For a moment, she felt shaky and nauseated, and she drew in a deep breath to try to force the sensation away. 

“I guess a rush of adrenaline isn’t a typical response to a meditation session, huh?”  She forced a soft laugh, running the back of her hand along her clammy forehead.  The drell’s eyes were still trained on her face, and the intensity of his dark gaze surprised her.  “I...I started thinking about my death.” 

Thane leaned back into a neutral position, his expression thoughtful. 

“I heard that you were killed.  Allegedly, Cerberus found you and brought you back, a rare and expensive operation.” 

“Lucky me,” Shepard lowered her head, unwillingly to address the memories that her meditation had recovered.   

“We do not have to discuss this if you do not wish to.” 

“Thank you,” she met the drell’s gaze, her gratitude sincere.  “Actually, Thane, these thoughts brought to mind something you told me when we first met.  I didn’t want to ask you then in front of the others, but you said you are dying.” 

“I am.” 

Shepard shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to press the question without being rude.  “Is there anything we can do to help you?” 

“No,” for a moment it seemed this was all Thane would say, but he seemed to sense her curiosity and gave in.  “The disease I have is called Kepral’s Syndrome.  It isn’t contagious, not even to other drell.  It’s a condition that develops over time and with extended exposure to dampness in the air.  The drell homeworld, Rakhana, is extremely arid, and our bodies are accustomed to this dryness.  However, very few drell actually live and grow up on Rakhana.  Our planet was decimated by overpopulation, famine, and war.  I grew up on the lush, hanar homeworld, Kahje, whose surface is primarily covered either in ocean or jungle, so you can imagine the humidity.  In my younger years, I never noticed the impact on my lungs, but about ten years ago, the first signs of Kepral’s Syndrome began to show.  The doctors say that I have about a year left.  I am content with this estimate.” 

Solara sat in stunned silence for a moment, processing what he had shared with her.    
  
“Thane, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Thane waved a hand dismissively.  “You’ve done nothing to necessitate an apology, and as I said, I am content.  Even knowing that my time is short, you invited me to be a part of your mission.  This is a great opportunity for me, and I am thankful.” 

“I’m happy you’re here,” Shepard regarded him quietly for a moment, reflecting on their discussion, before a realization struck her.  “Wait, you can tell when people's’ heart rates are elevated?”

Thane chuckled at her surprise, his laugh a pleasant hum.  “Yes.  I can detect a number of physical changes in other species.  However, the majority of what I can detect is common to all drell and likely a few other species.  Humans, actually, are surprisingly limited in what they are able to perceive.” 

Adding insult to injury, Shepard felt her cheeks warm as she considered the number of times already that he might have sensed her physical responses to his presence.   _Goddammit._ She cleared her throat, looked away, clenched her fist - anything to staunch her rising embarrassment.   

“Fantastic.  Thanks for the meditation session - it’s been illuminating.  I think I’m going to head back to my cabin for a bit before we get to Omega.” 

She rose abruptly, still avoiding eye contact with him.  Thane did not stop her.  As she made her way to the door, she forced herself to linger for a moment longer.    
  
“You’re coming with us, right?  Planetside?  We’re going to take some shore leave, do some gear shopping.”

Thane watched her pensively for a moment.  “I’ll be there.” 

Shepard nodded and vanished, grateful for the close proximity of the elevator to which she hurried.  Checking her omnitool, she noted that there was still enough time for a shower and maybe a nap, both of which she gratefully pursued as they neared Omega.  

*     *     *     *     *

“Now that we’re here, I’m not so sure about the barfight, Shepard.”

Tali’s head was tilted back, craned to take in the full view of Afterlife, Omega’s most populous nightclub and Aria T’Loak’s command station.   

“Come on, Tali, you can’t wimp out on us now,” Shepard gave her quarian friend a fond punch to the arm and grinned.  “We came all this way!”

“We came here to buy guns and _gear_!”  Tali trilled.  “The barfight was more of an afterthought!” 

Jack shoved past them, swaggering in the way only she knew how.   

“Move it, ladies, we have less than a day of shore leave, and I sure as shit am not wasting it bickering about whether or not the quarian’s got the balls to punch somebody.  Who wants to get drunk?” 

“She’s probably off to a barfight right now,” Tali whispered mournfully. 

Shepard nodded in agreement. 

“Come on, Tali, there’s a tech store I want to show you that I think you’ll like.  There’s less punching but a lot more of those little flying robots you like.” 

Garrus had been hesitant about joining them - he had a lot of calibrations on his schedule, after all - but Shepard was pleased to see that he had changed his mind.  Tali seemed happy enough with the suggestion, and the two made their way towards the market.  Samara followed at her own, graceful pace.   

“I would like to look at some armor myself.  Should you need me, call, and I will be there.”

Solara turned to the stragglers: Zaeed, Kasumi, Grunt, and Thane.  It seemed to her that Zaeed and Kasumi had been spending more time together since their forays on Illium - Shepard made a note to pester Kasumi for details about that later.  She nodded to her small audience, all of whom were watching her expectantly.  Shepard had to admit, she had not been prepared to entertain, but sudden inspiration swept over her.

“Who wants to dance?!”

“Nooooooo, no, no, no, no, that’s just a tragic suggestion, Commander.” 

Shepard glared down at her omnitool from which the obnoxious tones of Joker emanated.

“Couldn’t even bother to insult me in person, Joker?” 

“Somebody’s gotta watch over the Normandy while you kids have fun.  I’m just living vicariously through you.  Hey, if you’re serious about the dancing, what are the chances that Kasumi could film it so I can watch--” 

Shepard punched a finger into her omnitool, blocking transmission.  “Shut up,” she warned a grinning Kasumi.  “I’m going to look at guns.  You all do whatever you want.” 

“Oh, don’t be grumpy, Shep, you know we all love your dancing!” 

Shepard waved her hand dismissively and stalked off towards the market at a heated pace.  She could feel him trailing behind, but she did not stop until they were well away from the others and halfway down an empty, very Omega-esque, dark alley.  She turned on her heel, eyes flashing, and crossed her arms over her chest.  Thane stopped a few feet from her, body language as relaxed and stoic as ever.   

“Dancing’s kind of a sore topic for me,” she blurted out, surprised at how much it mattered to her that she explain herself.  “I’m bad at it, but in my defense, there’s no formal Alliance training that covers how to execute sexy dance moves.  I know it’s a stupid thing to care about...” 

Thane regarded her for a quiet moment, his silence dragging on just long enough to make her uncomfortable, something he was good at doing and seemed to do often.  Just when she was about to demand a response, he responded. 

“I understand perhaps more than you might think.  You were trained for your role from a very early age, taught to fight, to dominate, and to kill.  You believe these are your only skills, and you balk at all others, at things that many people would consider ‘normal.’  But I’ve seen you on the battlefield.  I’ve witnessed your grace and speed and ferocity firsthand.  I expect I will see it again many times.  I believe I know what you are capable of,” he took a few tentative steps towards her, and her pulse, already heightened with anger, jumped further.  “It is normal to sometimes wish to fit in better with those around you, but you are marvelously different from your peers.  You shouldn’t be embarrassed by that - quite the contrary, you should be proud.” 

Solara inhaled sharply, surprised by his forwardness, but her face remained as impassive as she could manage.  Her crossed arms loosened and fell to her side as she sighed and released her frustration into the cool evening air.   

“Thank you.”

Thane nodded, his dark eyes uncharacteristically soft.  Solara believed him, believed that he knew her true nature.  She believed that he saw her more clearly than most.  From the day they had first met, he called her out on her poor attempts to deflect dire truths with stupid jokes and carefree humor.  He seemed to sense how deeply she treasured her crew and how much this mission meant to her, and though they had not spent a great deal of time together yet, he always seemed to know what she needed.  In truth, it made her feel wary, suspicious - how could he know so much about her?  Yet at the same time, it turned the small pangs of attraction she initially felt for him into something greater, something more pressing.  Her eyes roved over his face, his lips, and she felt her body awakening to his presence.  Solara was keenly aware of the solitude of the alley they stood in.  How easy it would be to reach out and see if he felt anything similar for her that she felt for him.   

She blinked, snapping out of her thoughts, and cleared her throat quietly in alarm at how quickly her mind had grasped onto the idea.  Thane seemed mostly unchanged, but there was a look of recognition in his face that signaled hidden thoughts of his own.  She desperately wondered what they were, but she was certain there was no chance of him sharing.    

“Would you, uh--” she drew in a levelling breath, relaxing her tense posture as best she could.  “Would you like to walk with me?  I was just thinking of checking out the market, maybe looking at some weapons.” 

“Yes I would like that.” 

They perused Omega’s lively market together, visiting shops of all sorts, some interesting, some shady, some both.  As usual, Thane spoke little, but Solara felt a more comfortable, at-ease demeanor about him, or perhaps it was her own feelings that had changed.  She did manage to coax him into talking more about his experience with weapons and biotics, reassuring her suspicion that he could kill almost anyone with little trouble, a fact that worried her less than before.  Shepard showed him some of her favorite shotgun models, and he showed her some of his favorite SMGs.  They discussed their biotic training, and Solara listened with particular interest, ever searching for ways to expand and hone her methods. 

“Incidentally, meditation helps a great deal with fine-tuning biotic control,” Thane remarked.  “If you’re interested, perhaps we could meditate together on a regular basis?” 

“That sounds great,” Shepard smiled, prying her gaze away from a beautiful set of shiny, black armor long enough to lock eyes with the drell.  “I look forward to learning from you.”

Having had their fill of weaponry, they moved further into the market and browsed food stalls, exotic clothes vendors, and kiosks selling souvenirs and other small items.  Shepard almost placed an order for some beautiful fish to fill her tank in her cabin, but at the last moment decided against it and ordered a small hamster (with an automated feeder) instead.  Thane bought a necklace with a small, intricately-carved pendant decorated in unfamiliar characters.  The pendant was supposed to bring protection, he explained, but he tucked the necklace away in a pocket without further clarification.  Solara doubted it was for him - as far as she had seen, Thane wore no jewelry, and he had signed up for their suicide mission without a second thought. 

They met up with Garrus and Tali who had made some purchases of their own.  Garrus had found some modifications for his sniper rifle, and Tali happily showed off some manuals she found on combat drone programming.  Together, they made their way back towards Afterlife for drinks (and no dancing).  Solara squinted against the harsh lights as they stepped into the club, her eyes automatically wandering upwards to Aria’s perch.  She could not see the queenly asari, but she was certain Aria could see them.  Their presence always made Omega’s ruler uneasy, primarily because Shepard’s reputation with the Alliance made Omega’s less lawful residents uneasy.  After all, an icon of galactic law did not exactly mesh with Aria’s vision of hedonistic anarchy.  As if on cue, Shepard’s omnitool alerted her to an incoming message.  She unblocked the transmission.

“Shepard, what a surprise,” Aria drawled.  “I see you found your drell.  And I’m certain one of my men reported seeing an asari justicar wandering my streets as well.  Thank you for gracing us with your and your crew’s presence.” 

“Nice to see you, too, Aria,” Solara grinned and waved at the nearest ‘hidden’ security camera.  “Drinks are on the house, right?”

Solara thought she heard the asari growl with annoyance, “Just don’t cause any fucking trouble.”

Shepard blew the camera a kiss and moved further into Afterlife.  As expected, she spotted Jack drinking heavily at the bar.  Zaeed and Kasumi sat nearby, chatting and drinking as well.  They noticed Shepard and the others walking in, and Kasumi turned and waved them over.  Shepard settled in a seat next to the thief and waved the bartender over.   

“What’s going on?”  She scanned the dance floor slowly, then tilted her head in surprise.  “Is that _Grunt_?” 

Kasumi laughed, swaying in her seat with delight.  “I was hoping you would show up in time to see this.  His moves aren’t bad.” 

“I once knew a krogan mercenary, biggest, ugliest bastard you’d ever seen,” Zaeed took a drink from his glass.  “Tough as nails.  Merciless.  His favorite thing to do to unwind was dance.  Actually, he looked a lot like that.” 

“I mean, Grunt’s supposed to be the perfect krogan, right?  I guess they included your mercenary’s dancing genes?” 

“Maybe.  If they were able to scrape any of him up after I shoved him into an incinerator.” 

“Jesus, Zaeed,” Shepard mumbled, and grabbed the drink that the bartender dropped off for her.   

She listened contentedly as her crewmates chattered on about their day on Omega.  Garrus ordered them all another round, then Jack ordered them another.  Jack, Tali, and Kasumi got up to dance, much to the poorly-hidden interest of both Garrus and Zaeed, Shepard noted with a faint smile.  Apparently Jack noticed as well.  

“Stop looking and start dancing, Garrus!” 

Garrus shook his head vigorously, embarrassed to be singled out and, like Shepard, not the most confident dancer.   

“Get your turian ass over here!”  Jack was relentless.  She broke away from the dance floor and grabbed Garrus’ hand, yanking him to his feet.  “Let’s go!  You don’t have to dance with me, dance with Tali, you both want to.”

“What?!”  Tali trilled in protest.  “I don’t--” 

“Oh, _please_ ,” Jack cackled, pulling Garrus forward.  “Dancing’s the _nicest_ thing I could’ve suggested.”

“ _Hey!_ ”  An unfamiliar voice interrupted the unfolding drama, and out of the crowd stepped a burly batarian, a couple of others at his back.  He moved dangerously close to Garrus, bristling.  “You look familiar.  You’re that _Archangel_ bastard!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Garrus replied cooly, not stepping forward but not provoking the batarian and his friends.   

“Don’t play stupid.  You killed a lot of my friends, you know.”

“I didn’t know shitty, off-brand mercs had friends,” Jack tilted her chin forward defiantly, the edges of her skin buzzing as her biotics began to swell. 

Solara was on her feet and stepping through the crowd, most of which was clearing out of the way of the impending danger.  Her heart skipped slightly as she realized the batarian had more than a couple of friends, and they were closing in.  People were starting to hurry out of the way, now, and she moved forward faster.  The batarian grabbed Garrus by the front of his armor and leaned in close, showing his vicious teeth.

“I’m gonna gut you, stuff you, and sell your corpse to the highest bidder.”  He moved for his gun. 

“ _Hey, bosh’tet!_ ” 

Tali’s fist sailed through the air in a magnificent arc, connecting with the batarian’s scarred face with a resounding _crack_.  For a moment, time stood still, and Solara’s eyes darted over the dance floor-turned-battleground.  Her biotics flared, illuminating her in a bright blue halo, and she thought wistfully to her shotgun, which she had left aboard the Normandy.   _But I still have my pistol_.  Her eyes flitted to the nearest enemy, and she gritted her teeth as she prepared to charge him.  To her astonishment, his neck twisted grotesquely before her eyes, and he dropped to the floor at her feet.  Thane stood behind him.  Solara realized she never knew when he had left her side.  Shaking off her surprise, she nodded to the drell, and they both turned to new foes.  

They moved methodically, dropping one enemy after another.  Shepard had not even bothered to touch her gun and was instead enjoying pummeling each of her targets with a biotic-backed fist.  Thane moved almost faster than she could track, killing those that were attempting to use guns and knocking unconscious all others.  They fought side by side, then back to back, then drifted apart as they made their way towards the knot of bodies in the middle.  Solara dodged to the side as Grunt charged by with a roar, ramming his head into some sorry moron’s torso and ending his life.   

The fight was dying down, and most of Afterlife was now empty.  As Solara shoved another unconscious enemy aside, the lead batarian came into view, pinned to the ground on his back with Garrus’s boot on his chest, his rifle pointed at this face.  He was squirming and spewing some curse-riddled, racist garbage. 

“Shepard, it’s about time.  I was wondering if you were going to leave the whole fight to me and Tali.” 

Solara turned to look at the trail of bodies left in her wake.  “Looks like you left the whole fight to _me_ , Garrus.  You must be getting rusty sitting around doing calibrations all day.”  She stepped forward and looked down into the face of the instigator.  “You ruined our shore leave, jackass.” 

The batarian spat but only managed to dirty Shepard’s armored leg.   

“Please tell me I can shoot him,” Garrus begged.   

Shepard grinned slowly, but she shook her head.  “This piece of shit isn’t worth the bullet.  Let’s turn him over to Aria.”  She glanced down at the batarian once more.  “It’s your lucky day today.  But if you ever threaten me or any of my crew again,” she shrugged.  “I’m sure you can infer the rest.” 

Garrus let the batarian up.  He lurched to his feet and lunged towards Shepard with a yell.  Solara dodged his charge, waited for him to turn, and punched him hard in the side of the head.  He fell to the ground once more, unconscious.  Slow, sarcastic clapping sounded behind her.

“You really can’t resist making a scene, can you?”

Shepard turned, crossing her arms over her chest as Aria strode forward.   

“Do you remember the conversation we had about an hour ago?  You know, the one about you not starting any _fucking trouble_?”

“Yes, Mom.  You might have noticed that this bastard started it, though.” 

Aria scowled but did not argue.  She looked over the wreckage, the bodies of the dead and unconscious, and her nearly-empty club with annoyance. 

“If I get this cleaned up, will you get out of here so I can return to some kind of normalcy?” 

Shepard looked around at her crewmates and grinned.  Jack and Grunt were tussling, still working off their spare adrenaline.  Tali was massaging her hand tenderly with Garrus supervising.  Zaeed and Kasumi were picking through their fallen enemies, presumably looking for people to loot.  Thane stood beside her, silent, still, and ready, his arms crossed behind his back.

“Yeah, I think we’ve had enough shore leave for one day.” 

“Thank the fucking Goddess.” 

Shepard clapped Tali on the shoulder as they made their way back to the Normandy.   

“You’re gonna want to ice that.  Maybe see the good Doctor Chakwas to make sure you don’t have any dislocated knuckles.  All in all, though...that was a pretty damn good bar fight.” 

“It was, but I think I’ll stick to shooting people in the future.  Think I could punch Jack, now?”

“Try it, princess,” Jack challenged.   

Shepard chuckled.  “Joker’s gonna be pissed that he missed Tali’s punch.”

“Actually, I filmed it,” Kasumi tapped her omnitool, and a digital, miniature version of Tali appeared, fist flying into the batarian’s face in a repeating loop. 

“You _have_ to send that to me,” Garrus demanded.

“Done.  In fact, I already put it on the extranet.  The clip’s getting a _lot_ of views.”

“Keelah, if _this_ is what I get famous for…what will my father say?!” 

Solara grinned and followed her crew mates back to the Normandy, pleased to call the day one of their most memorable shore leaves to date.  As they made their way home, she wondered what the odds were that she could get a picture capturing the moment of Tali’s punch framed and delivered to her cabin.


End file.
